


Countdown to V-Day

by FancyFree2813



Series: Layers (originally named The Goofy Mountie Series [10]
Category: due South
Genre: Child Abduction, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyFree2813/pseuds/FancyFree2813
Summary: Constable Turnbull fails to prevent a child from being kidnapped and it is up to Ray, Fraser and Turnbull to get her back.
Relationships: Renfield Turnbull/Kerri
Series: Layers (originally named The Goofy Mountie Series [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954873
Kudos: 1





	Countdown to V-Day

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also a rather long response to a long ago FIC challenge to include snow, children's blocks, a dump truck, a copy of Gone with the Wind, a candy heart, and stripped pajamas. This story is #10 in the Layers Series. It is recommended that you read at least 'A Small Matter of Respect' before reading this one.
> 
> This story was originally posted in 'real' time, that is, it was posted to RSY list at the exact time it was actually 'happening'.

February 10 3:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Back in the days when Constable Renfield Turnbull was clueless standing sentry duty in front of the Canadian Consulate was simple. He could stand for hours and think of absolutely nothing. But after his life changed and he began to live and love again, standing sentry duty became decidedly - boring.

Lately however, standing in the cold, which was infinitely preferable to the heat, wasn't so bad. He had so many plans to make, so many happy times to contemplate, and so much Kerri to fill his mind, the hours seemed to fly by.

These days though, Inspector Thatcher seemed hesitant to assign him to what she considered to be a task of punishment. He was her junior officer however, and someone had to do it. Her reluctance had to do with her new found respect for him, well not exactly respect, not quite yet. But he had really changed and the gray matter that had replaced his Swiss cheese brains had allowed her Constable to actually become a viable member of her consular 'team'. She just could not understand how the man could accept his assignments to guard duty so willingly. Then again, he seemed to accept all tasks assigned to him willingly.

Although there was no outward indication of it, on this day, as he stood ramrod straight and motionless in front of the Consulate, Turnbull was thinking about Kerri. He smiled inwardly as his mind's eye conjured up pictures of her standing in the kitchen of the tearoom, trying her best to duplicate his father's croissants, and how miserably she had failed. He watched as she became overly excited as one of their favorite customers shared his prized 1st Edition of Gone with the Wind with her. He valiantly controlled a frown as Dickens bounded into the images by trotting down the stairs clutching a uniform boot firmly in his silly puppy mouth. 

Just as he heard St Michael's Church bells chiming 3:00p.m. he saw the three little girls out of the corner of his eye. He smiled to himself again. Not being able to turn your head for hours at a time certainly improved one's peripheral vision. Even though they were walking on the sidewalk outside the fence, he could still identify the children instantly: Maria, Amber and their newest friend, Crystal.

Turnbull knew that the Consulate was not exactly on their way home from school. He also knew that all three girls had a 'crush' on him. He had yet to decide if he was more embarrassed or flattered by the girlish attention. Kerri had said she thought it was sweet and cute, and he should be flattered, but he'd darn well better not feel that way about the college age girls! Even though his young ladies, as he called them, knew he would not acknowledge their presence, they still walked by most every day, and giggled.

Out of the corner of his eye he also noticed a black car moving slowly down the street, almost as if it were following the girls. Just as his peace officer instinct caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end, the black car drew even with the children and a man jumped out. In the blink of an eye the man grabbed Maria and dragged the screaming child into the car. In the same blink of an eye Turnbull was down the walk and over the gate after Maria. He lunged at the car just as it sped away, sending the Mountie somersaulting to the pavement.

Two little girls screaming and crying on the sidewalk brought both Inspector Thatcher and Constable Fraser out of her office at a dead run. As Thatcher attempted to calm the children, Fraser helped his fellow officer to his feet.

"Turnbull, are you all right? What on earth happened?"

"Maria Calvo was abducted." Turnbull winced as he struggled to get up and tried to put weight on his leg, the same leg that had been broken in another attempt to save Maria. The only difference being that that time he had succeeded.

"Here, lean on me, and I'll help you inside."

"The Hell with me! . . . ah . . . Sir. We've got to go after them . . . they're getting away . . . they've got little Maria!"

"We'll get inside and call Ray. Just let me help you." But he would not let Fraser assist him. It was vital to Turnbull that the girls not think he was hurt, they were already scared enough. So he limped, slightly, over to them and bent down to their eye level.

"It's going to be okay, I promise you. I promise we'll get Maria back and she'll be just fine. Okay? Let's go inside the Consulate and we'll call your mothers to come and get you." He winced again as he took their hands to walk the two frightened children into the building.

"Are you hurt, Mister Mountie? Did the car hurt you?"

Turnbull wanted to cry. It was the second time Amber had seen him hit by a car. This time he was determined that she would not worry about him. He knelt on the sidewalk next to her. "Honey, I'm not hurt. My ankle is a little sore, but I'm fine. I don't want you to worry about me, okay?" He smiled at his little friend and hugged her, before getting to his feet again. Damn, his ankle hurt. 

"See? Good as new." He took their hands again and led the girls into the building.

Fraser had already called 9-1-1 and was now attempting to locate Ray. By the time he was successful they could hear a siren in the distance. Turnbull called Maria's mother, then he called Amber and Crystal's parents.

His ankle hurt like hell, but there was no way that he was going to stop to worry about that now. After their parents had been notified, Turnbull sat down with the girls and began to gently question them.

"That was a really scary thing that just happened, huh?" When they didn't respond he gathered both of them into a big Mister Mountie embrace. "Remember I promised you that we would get her back? Have I ever lied to you?" Crystal didn't know Mister Mountie as well as Amber, so she took her cue from her friend. 

Amber smiled weakly at Mister Mountie. "You told us you're a policeman in Canada. Can you be a policeman in Chicago too?"

"Oh, indeedy do! And my friend Ray, here, is a real Chicago policeman. He'll help us find Maria." 

Turnbull looked up at Ray, who had just run though the door. He looked back at Amber. "You and Crystal can help us too, you know? I need you to help me remember about the man, and the car. Do you think you can do that?" He smiled as both girls nodded at him.

"Okay, Amber, you want to go first? Good." He gave her his best, reassuring Mister Mountie smile. "The car was black, do you remember anything special about it?" As Amber tried to remember, Turnbull handed Ray a sketch he had already drawn of the man who had abducted Maria.

"I remember you couldn't see in the windows too good, cause they were black. My cousin Matt has windows on his car like that." She crinkled up her nose as she thought deeply. "I think there was a lady sitting in the front seat, but I'm not sure."

"I seen that car after school sometimes," Crystal interrupted. "I thought it was somebody's parents."

Turnbull looked at Ray. "Good ladies, that's very good. Have you seen it there too, Amber?" When Amber nodded, Turnbull glanced at Ray again. "Is there anything else you can tell me about the car - or the man?"

Amber started to cry again and Mister Mountie hugged her tighter. "I'm sorry honey, I know that man was scary. So I want both of you to not think about him right now. Okay? We'll talk about it some other time. Here come your moms." Turnbull released his reassuring hold on the girls as Mrs. Allaire and Mrs. Nottoli came running up the walk, with several officers who had also just arrived on the scene.

"Mommmyyy!" Amber and Crystal cried in unison as Inspector Thatcher directed the girls and their mothers to her office and retreated to the doorway to allow the mothers some privacy to comfort their children.

"Turnbull, how the hell did you get this thing drawn so quick? Guy looks like the Unibomber!"

Ray was surprised when Turnbull snapped at him. "It's the best I could do! Don't you think I would have stopped him if I could have? If I'd only been a couple of seconds quicker, if I hadn't let the damn car knock me down, maybe I could have--"

"Hold it, buddy! You did your best. Hell, even Super Mountie here pro'bly couldn't a stopped them."

"Ray's right, Constable. No one could have gotten to that car in time to stop them. What we need now is a--"

"Description," Turnbull muttered. "Ray, could you write this down as I recall it?" Turnbull began to pace as he tried to recall every detail, every nuance of the kidnapping. "The car was a new, or near new Lincoln Towncar. Black, with tinted windows. There was a small vertical dent, more like a crease actually, about 3 cm. in length over the right rear wheel well. There is probably a much larger one now, where I hit it. Oh, and the car had a landau top, and the right tail light was out, the lens was not broken, the light was just out.

"The abductor was approximately 187.96cm tall and weighed at least 91kg. As you can tell from the sketch--"

"Whoa, English, speak English--"

"That is English, Ray. If you don't understand the metric system, just say so. 187.96cm is 6'2", and 91 kilograms is approximately 200lbs." Ray was surprised at Turnbull's rebuke, but chalked it up to his friend's distress, and let it drop with out his usual comeback. 

"As I was about to say, he was disguised, wearing a black wig, with the hood of a gray sweatshirt pulled up over his head, all but obscuring his vision. He wore sunglasses with silver frames and bright blue lenses, not prescription." Turnbull pulled at his chin as he paced. Fraser was astounded as he listened to the other Constable's list of details regarding the abductor. All RCMP officers are trained in observation techniques, of course, but Fraser was seeing a side of Turnbull he had never seen before and developing a newfound respect for the man's abilities.

"He had about a day's growth of beard. He was wearing Levi's, faded black, and brand new white running shoes. I couldn't see the brand name, but they looked expensive. If I go to a athletic shoe store I'm sure I could identify them." Turnbull frowned more deeply as he struggled to recall even smaller details. "Oh, and yes, he had a diamond stud in his right ear. I remember seeing it as he turned back to the car, when the hood slipped slightly. That is not part of the sketch."

"Whoa, Buddy, slow down a minute! Let me catch up. Did the sweatshirt have any logo on it, like Bulls or--"

"No, just a generic gray sweatshirt."

"Get a plate?"

Turnbull sighed. "Only partial, Ray, I'm sorry. I was too preoccupied making contact with the pavement to see much of the rear of the car." He frowned as he sighed deeply. "I could only get the first three letters D-E-C, and I saw a Thrifty Rental Car sticker on the bumper--"

"Only? With this info we should be able ta find the car in a heartbeat. Good goin' buddy."

But Turnbull was in no mood to accept a compliment. To his mind he had failed, failed to protect a child, a child who was his friend. "Ray? I apologize for snapping at you just then."

Ray smiled. "Not a problem, Buddy."

February 10 3:45 p.m. Central Standard Time

After Ray called in all the details Turnbull and the children could recall and faxed the sketch to the 27th, he and Turnbull went to Maria's home. A policewoman had already been assigned to stay with Mrs. Calvo. 

Turnbull knew Mrs. Calvo slightly. They had met in the hospital right after his accident and had then seen each other occasionally around the neighborhood. He felt rather sorry for her. She seemed to have such a hard time with the English language. Rafael and Maria still had thick accents, but children always seemed to adapt to new surroundings much more easily than adults. Fortunately for everyone the policewoman assigned to the case, Christina Santos, spoke fluent Spanish. 

"Hey, Christy. Any word?" Ray had to ask, even though he was pretty sure of the answer. "This is my buddy, Constable Turnbull."

Christy shook her head as she smiled slightly at Turnbull. "You must be the Mister Mountie I've heard so much about. Mrs. Calvo's about to come apart at the seams. Could you speak to her? You're some kinda hero to her."

"Hola Senora Calvo, como estas?" And that was the extent of Turnbull's Spanish.

For the rest of the conversation it was necessary for Christy to translate. "She says who would want to steal her daughter? She has nothing that she could pay to anyone. She thought when they left Argentina that things like this wouldn't happen anymore."

"Christy, ask her if anything unusual has happened lately. If anyone's been hanging around here or places she's been with Maria. Any strangers around a lot." 

Christy glanced at Ray with a sideways frown, and then turned to question Senora Calvo. 

"No! No! Nadien!

All three polices officers thought her response was far too hasty and were immediately suspicious. "Officer Santos, could you please ask--" 

"It's Christy, and I'm one step ahead of you Constable. Senora Calvo, tu dime la verdad, por favor. Si tu sabes algo, dime ahora. Tu conoces la persona en el foto? Si tu tiene informacion es posible que puede sele dano a Maria." 

"Tell her the man was about 6'2" and weighed at least 200lbs . . . " Turnbull gave the physical description of the suspect to Christy, and she translated for Mrs. Calvo. 

"El es alto, como 6'2", y doscientos libras quizas."

Maria's mother sighed deeply. "Lo puede ser el . . . ah, bodyguard . . . del pardre de mi esposo muerto. It sounds . . . like my . . . husband's . . . father's . . . assistant, his bodyguard, Louis Hernandez. I can't be sure . . . "

"My grandfather has threatened to take Maria and me away from my mother ever since my father died." Rafael frowned as he leaned against the front door frame. "Hiya, Constable Turnbull."

"Hello, Rafael. You remember Detective Vecchio, and this is Officer Santos. Do you think this man looks like your grandfather's assistant?" Turnbull handed the boy the sketch of Maria's abductor.

"He's a big guy, almost as big as you, so I dunno, maybe. But I'll bet the old man is behind taking Maria."

"Rafael tu deves de respetar tus minores! You must . . . show . . . respect . . . for your . . . elders." Mrs. Calvo scolded her son.

"Respect!? The old man don't deserve my respect, or yours neither. He makes our lives miserable, Momma. We tried to hide from him! How can you say I should care about the old--"

"Rafael, tell us specifically why you think your grandfather would want to abduct Maria."

"He thinks that Maria and me are his, I forget the word, the ones that get the money when he kicks off . . . ?

"Heirs?"

"Yeah, his heirs, and we should be taught the ways of the old country, his ways. My mother brought us to this country to get away from him. I guess it wasn't far enough. He's got lots of money, and I don't want none of it. He's a mean old man, and I hate him."

"Rafael!"

"It's true Momma, you should hate him too! He stole Maria!" Rafael stormed out of the room as Mrs. Calvo began to sob.

"Christy, ask Mrs. Calvo her father-in-law's name, and if he has any business or personal connections in the Chicago area. Any place they might take Maria."

Mrs. Calvo apparently understood most of what Ray had asked. "His nombre . . . name is José Enrique Calvo. He owns Pampas Shipping."

Ray whistled. "That's just about all of Pier 29. If you were trying ta hide from him, why d'ya come ta Chicago?"

"I'm the reason the family came to Chicago." Standing in the exact spot Rafael had just vacated was a tall Hispanic man, about forty-five years of age. "I am Miguel Lucero, Maria's Uncle. What is being done to find my niece?"

Mrs. Calvo embraced her brother. They exchanged a few words in Spanish, and then Mr. Lucero turned back to Ray. "If Calvo took Maria, something has to be done quickly. With as much access as the man has, Maria could already be out of the country."

Ray was already on the phone. All major departure points in the greater Chicago area were already being watched, but no one had known to keep an eye on Pier 29.

February 10 4:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Maria was scared. Her mother had warned her to stay away from strangers because they might try to hurt her. She thought she recognized the man who had grabbed her, so she wasn't sure if this man was a stranger, but she was still very scared. She sat in the back of the big car and cried. The man driving the car tried to talk to her in Spanish, and told her to be quiet, but she couldn't stop crying. The more she cried the madder the man got, and the madder he got the more he yelled, and the more he yelled, the more she cried.

There was a lady in the front seat and she tried to talk to Maria, over the shouts of the driver. "It's okay, honey. We're gonna take you to a place where you'll be safe. No one's gonna hurt you. Your grandpa wants to see you."

Maria didn't like the lady, but if she were going to take her to her grandpa, maybe it would be okay. "Y . . . y . . . you w . . . will t . . . take m . . . me to s . . . see *mi abuelito* . . . my grandpa?"

"We will take you to a place and then tomorrow you will see your grandpa."

"Linda, shut up! Don't be telling the kid nothin'!" The driver spat the words at his companion.

"Oh, so you go in tell her my name! Jerk!"

Maria was scared again. She didn't like all the shouting, her momma said shouting was rude. Mister Mountie always told them to lower their voices in class.

"You . . . you hurt my friend. He . . . he wanted to help me and you hurt Mister Mountie with your car." Maria was scared, for herself and for Mister Mountie. She had seen him get hit by a car once before and it was her fault. Now he'd been hit again and it was her fault too. She began to cry again.

The driver turned around and yelled again. "Stop that damn blubberin'! Hernandez, shut her up!"

"Maria, my friend, please don't be afraid. Tu abuelio . . . your grandpa did not mean for you to be afraid. He loves you and Rafael because you are the children of his dead son. He just wants you to be raised in the homeland of his ancestors. He wants you to come and live with him."

"Can Momma and Rafael come too?"

The man who had grabbed her off Mister Mountie's sidewalk nodded his head. "Rafael is always welcome to come with us. Your Mother does not like your Grandfather and does not want to live in Argentina. She will not come with us."

"But . . . " Maria began to cry again. "I want my momma. I want my momma."

"God, shut that damn kid up!"

They stopped in the parking lot of a grocery store and changed cars, for the third time. Maria was confused. "I want to go home. I want my momma. I want to see Mister Mountie!" She missed her momma, Mister Mountie, and even Rafael. Rafael would punch the man for yelling at her!

"If you don't shut her up, I'm gonna slap her silly!"

Maria cried even harder. "Maria, please don't be afraid, we will go to a nice safe place and then I will fix you something to eat. Then tomorrow we will go to see you grandpa."

Thinking of her grandpa, her momma, and Mister Mountie helped Maria to calm down, and after several minutes she fell asleep. She slept until they arrived at their destination, about two hours later.

February 10 6:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Ray and Turnbull left the Calvo residence and met Fraser at the 27th Precinct. After a briefing with Lt. Welsh, the three men gathered around Ray's desk.

"How's the ankle? You've been limpin', and I'll betcha didn't even know it."

"It will be fine Ray, I just twisted it. Actually, I think I will be a mass of aches by tomorrow, but it would have been worth every one of them if I could just have gotten there a few seconds earlier." Turnbull sighed as the two other officers frowned.

"I thought you'd stopped kickin' yerself in the head about that. Ya did what ya could. That's all any of us can do." Although they all desperately wished he could have gotten to Maria in time.

Fraser could tell by the look of self-reproach on Turnbull's face that it was time for the subject to take another direction. "I think what is needed now is a recap of what we know. Ray, are we sure that the child was abducted at the order of her grandfather?"

"Not 100%, but nothin' else makes sense. Mrs. Calvo's got no money to pay ransom, it wasn't a random snatch, cause the kids have seen the car hangin' around the school, and perverts don't usually drive rented Towncars. So, yeah, I guess we're reasonably sure." 

"Then we need to concentrate on where Mr. Calvo might be hiding."

"You think Calvo's in the country?"

"It would only make sense Ray. He must love the child very much, so he certainly would not want to frighten her too much. I would wager that the people who abducted her took her directly to him."

Turnbull obviously had not considered this option and was suddenly immensely relieved. At least Maria would not be hurt. He had to hang on to that. 

Turnbull, Fraser and Ray spent the rest of the evening, and half the night walking the piers on Lake Michigan talking to anyone they came across about Pampas Shipping. When they had exhausted all avenues of investigation, there was nothing left for them to do but call it a day.

February 11 2:00 a.m. Central Standard Time

Renfield didn't get home until somewhere around 2:00 a.m., but Kerri and the pup were waiting up for him. Well, Kerri was up but Dickens was crashed out by the fireplace.

"I see he's been keeping you company." Kerri was shocked at Renny's uncharacteristic sarcasm. He collapsed onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands.

"Is there any news?"

"Only that we're almost certain she was stolen by her paternal grandfather."

"At least you know he won't hurt her."

His head snapped up to confront her. "I don't know anything, Kerri! I'm the dumb one, remember? I'm the one who let this happen." He rubbed his hands over his face, then looked into the shocked eyes of the woman he loved so very much. "Oh, Kerri, I'm sorry. I'm just tired . . . and very worried." 

Kerri grabbed his hands. "Okay, come on, let's go."

"What--?"

"Renny, you need to get some rest. Come on, I'll tuck you in. I bought you an early Valentine's present today, and they'll come in handy right now."

Kerri pulled a pair of red and white striped pajamas out of a Penney's shopping bag. "Here, put these on--"

He frowned at the gift. "Kerri, you know I don't wear--"

"And I prefer the 'I don't wear anything' look myself. But it's been getting very cold in here at night, and tonight you need your sleep. Now put these on and I'll tuck you in." When Renny smiled his 'special' smile, Kerri shook her head. "You need to be tucked in to sleep, buster."

Kerri went to discard the shopping bag, and when she returned to the bedroom she was greeted with a sight that caused her to laugh out loud. "You look like a very large, very tall candy cane!"

"Do I have to wear--"

"Yes!"

Renny was asleep practically before his head hit the pillow.

February 11 6:30 a.m. Central Standard Time

The insistent ringing of their phone awakened Renfield and Kerri.

"Turnbull, we've found the car." The sound of Ray's voice brought Turnbull wide-awake. 

"A beat officer found it abandoned in a Safeway shopping center." Ray hesitated before answering the other man's unspoken question. "There's no trace of Maria." He heard Turnbull's heavy sigh before he continued. "But there's plenty of prints, and we've got a good description of the woman that rented the car." There was still no response from Turnbull. "I'll be by in ten minutes ta pick ya up, we're goin' back ta the Pier to take another look see."

When he turned back to Kerri, she was sure she saw tears in his eyes. "They've located the car - but there's no sign of Maria. I've got to get dressed, Ray will be here in ten minutes." He started to unbutton his pajama top. "Do I have to wear these anymore?"

Kerri smiled at her thoughts. 'Only if there's another fiction challenge involving striped pajamas.' Of course she didn't actually say that. She smiled again. "Only when I get to help you out of them." That got him to smile too.

Ten minutes later Kerri waved good morning to Ray, kissed Renny good-bye, and prayed for Maria's safe return to her mother and her friends. With Ray, Benton, Renny and God on her side, Kerri was sure Maria would be okay.

February 12 9:30 a.m. Central Standard Time

Two days, it had been almost two days and they had nothing. Sure, they had found the car, but there the trail had gone cold. No one at the waterfront knew a thing, as the trio of police officers sitting around Ray's desk knew only too well. They knew because they had spent the better part of the last thirty-six hours questioning everything that moved on or near Pier 29. And, although none of them spoke the words aloud, they also knew that the longer they went without leads, the less chance they had of finding . . . 

And so, working on little more than gallons of coffee and very little sleep, they retraced their steps, and revisited all the places they had already been. Fraser and Ray went back to the docks, and Turnbull went back to the rental car agency. Realizing that the car had been found far too close to the scene of the kidnapping, Turnbull visited every other car rental agency in town, hoping that the perpetrators had switched to another rental car to get farther away from the scene of their crime. After six hours of making the rounds of rental agencies, he was finally successful.

"We're looking for this lady," Turnbull said as he handed the counter clerk the composite sketch made from the description the clerk from Thrifty Rental Car had given them. "Do you recognize her?"

"Yeah. She rented a full size a couple a days ago. Said she'd need it a week. You a cop?"

"RCMP. I am assisting the Chicago PD in a kidnapping investigation."

The clerk laughed. "Cops can't catch her, so they call in the Mounties?"

Turnbull showed absolutely no emotion. "The child that was abducted was a friend of mine."

The clerk frowned. "Sorry. Ya think they used the car to snatch the kid?" Suddenly this boring job wasn't quite so boring.

"We think they may have transferred to this car after the commission of the crime. Could you give me the make and license plate number?"

The counter clerk was more than happy to oblige. People that kidnapped children deserved to be whipped or flogged or whatever it was that she saw in that Bounty movie. Plus this Mountie guy was kind of cute, no ring on his finger, so yeah, he was real cute.

She smiled sweetly at Turnbull as she gave him the information on the car and the driver's license that the woman had used to rent it. "Here's the stuff ya need. If ya need anything else I'm here 'til five. After that you could call me at home, I'll be in aalllllll evening."

Sometimes being slightly clueless did have its advantages. Turnbull was completely oblivious to her meaning. "Thank you kindly, but I think I have everything I need."

After he left, the counter clerk realized she hadn't even told him her name.

Turnbull knew the driver's license information was fraudulent, it was the same information that was used in renting the Towncar. They did have another lead however, a 1999 dark blue Taurus to look for.

February 13 2:30 a.m. Central Standard Time

Kerri had just fallen asleep when she was awakened by a loud crash coming from the bookshop. She ran down the stairs, alternately praying it was Renny, and hoping it was not. The bookshop was dark, so she heard him long before she ever saw him. Another loud crash brought her to the back of the shop where Renny had set up his area for the children's Saturday Reading Hour.

Even in the darkness she could see him hurl yet another toy across the room, a yellow plastic dump truck, that smacked the opposite wall and then skittered across the floor and into the corner. He muttered a few words to himself, words that Kerri was sure she had not heard correctly.

"Renny?" she whispered. "What's happened?"

He spun to face her. "Nothing! That's what's happened! Exactly nothing!" He ran his hands through his hair. "Kerri, please go back to bed, I don't want to see anyone right now."

"Oh, no you don't--"

"Kerri, please! Go upstairs!" Renfield was scared to death that he would not be able to control his anger, anger that seemed to have taken possession of him.

Even when they had had their one and only 'fight' Kerri had not heard such fury in his voice. For the first time since she had known Renny, she was close to being afraid of him.

"No, I will not go back upstairs. Renny, you need me, and I will not turn my back on you. Remember the deal we made? Please, don't try to send me away, because I won't go."

He turned back toward the reading room. Toys were strewn everywhere. The toys that he let them use to illustrate stories he read to them. The toys that he always insisted the children treat with care. Toys that he had just now heaved at the far wall in a vain attempt to appease his anger. 

Renny sat in the nearest adult sized chair and buried his face in his hands as he felt the rage drain away. "I'm so sorry, Kerri."

She knelt beside him and pulled his hands away from his face. "Renny, why are you sorry? For losing your temper? For caring so much for a lost child that you let it get to you? For losing your 'cool'?" She tried to smile into his stricken face. "Renfield, you are only human. Most people lose their tempers occasionally."

He looked at her and sighed. "I know I'm not a very good cop. I failed miserably in trying to catch the guy that killed . . . and then I buried the past and it didn't matter." He stared into her eyes, and even in the darkened room, Kerri could see the anger there. "But now it matters! I have to find her, Kerri, if I don't I will never be able to call myself a Mountie again! I've tried to pattern myself after Fraser. He is successful because he doesn't let his emotions get the better of him . . . like I just did."

Kerri smiled at her Mountie. "Renny, I am going to tell you something. You may not think you are as good a cop as Benton is, but for my money you are a better man. You know I think the world of him, and if I hadn't seen you first . . . well . . . " Kerri smiled into his shocked eyes. "I'm teasing you, silly. Benton has spent years suppressing his emotions, and as he gets older one of two things is going to happen. Either he will end up in a padded cell howling at the moon or end up with an ulcer the size of Kansas. People have to vent, Renny. It's normal!"

When he began to smile slightly, Kerri relaxed. "Now, about not being a very good cop: who saved Maria from being hit by a car, and almost died in the process?"

"I did, but--"

"Who taught American children about respect for the Chicago PD, not to mention the RCMP?"

"I did."

"Who got an almost complete description of the man who grabbed Maria off the sidewalk, even though he only had about a two second look at the guy?"

When he didn't respond she asked again. "Who?"

"Me." Came the sheepish reply.

"Who got a partial license plate number, and even saw a rental car sticker on the bumper of that car, even though he was lying face down on the pavement?"

"Okay, I see your point--"

"Answer the question."

Renny sighed. "I did all those things. Okay, I'll concede your point. But . . . "

Kerri frowned at him. "Renfield, you do not give yourself enough credit. We're going to have to work on that. Now, you need to get a little sleep. Part of your problem is that you're over tired." 

Kerri began to gather some of the toys and found enough alphabet blocks to spell out exactly what she needed to say. When she stood up Renny could see her handiwork, and he smiled. The blocks spelled out 'Mister Mountie my hero'.

As they walked up the stairs Renny turned to her. "You really think I'm a better man than Constable Fraser?"

"I think Benton is one of the finest men I have ever met. You are the finest man I have ever met."

February 13 7:00 a.m. Central Standard Time

The three of them were once again stumped. None of them would ever admit it, but they were out of ways to proceed. Until . . . 

Huey dropped at file on Ray's desk. "We came up with an ID of the woman who rented the car -Linda Ellis--"

"Great work, Detective Huey! Thank you kindly." 

"Actually, Frannie came up with the ID. No priors, so she just started dinkin' around with the computer, and guess what? The woman's a Federal employee, well not exactly Federal, she works for the Post Office! Prints on file with the Feds."

"Got a work address?"

"Do ya one better, Frannie got her work and home addresses."

The three formerly stumped officers were out the door practically before Huey finished his sentence. As Ray sped through the crowded streets of Chicago toward Hoffman Estates, Fraser called the Postmaster in Elgin.

The Postmaster did not work on Sunday and was therefore unavailable, but Fraser was able to contact a supervisor who told him that Linda Ellis was not at work today. After identifying himself as a police officer, neglecting to mention from what jurisdiction, Fraser was also told that Linda Ellis had been AWOL for the last week. As far as her supervisor was concerned she needn't ever return to the Elgin Post Office.

By the time Fraser finished his conversation with the Postal supervisor, they had reached the address Frannie had ferreted out for them. It was a small, typical 1950's single story house, on a street notable only for the fact that all the houses looked the same. The only differences between this house and all the others were the newspapers strewn all over the porch and the mail stuffed into the mailbox mounted by the front door.

Ray shook his head. "Ya'd think she'd know ta stop the paper and the mail. Bad guys look for this kinda stuff." Ray was the only one who thought his remark was in the least bit humorous.

Fraser knocked on the door. Just as Ray was about to reach the end of his patience and kick it in, Turnbull beat him to it. "Papers and mail on the porch, and the front door left open, very unwise. Don't you think?"

The other two officers took several seconds to follow Turnbull into the house. It also took several seconds for them to close their gaping mouths. Every time Fraser thought he had Turnbull figured out, the man astounded him again. Ray - well, Ray was just always astounded by Turnbull.

The house was as average inside as it was out. The living room contained rather shabby furniture, rather dirty carpet, and not much else of interest. Except for a small photograph in a cheap gold frame.

Turnbull held it for the others to see. "I wonder if this might be the driver?" he asked as he removed the picture from the frame. The inscription on the reverse of the photo read 'Me and George, Sept. 1999'.

Now they were getting somewhere. They'd have the lab boys go over this place with a fine toothed comb and have Frannie feed George's face into the database. Maybe she'd get lucky, again.

"Remind me ta get Frannie a big box of chocolates for Valentine's Day."

"I think we should all contribute to one right now, Ray."

"Ya'd better not let Kerri know yer buyin' candy for another woman." 

Turnbull smiled. "If it would help get Maria back safely, Kerri would pay for it herself!"

Once again it occurred to Ray just how lucky Turnbull was. He was never really sure why that made him so sad. 

February 13 2:30 p.m. Central Standard Time

Huey and Dewey drew dock duty. After spending the rest of the morning showing the picture from Ellis' house around the docks, they found out that the guy's name was George Ramirez and he was a longshoreman, currently working off the Lucky Lucy. But no one had seen him today. He'd probably be around later, if they wanted to wait. So they waited.

And waited. Both of them knew the importance of what they were doing, so they sat with relatively little complaining. They'd figure out a way to blame Vecchio and the Mountie later, after they got the little girl back. Neither one of them thought about figuring out a way to blame the other Mountie, the tall one. They still hadn't figured out a way to even figure him out!

They were relieved for a couple of hours by some beat cop, somewhere around 10:00p.m. but they were back on watch by midnight. Every cop in the world hates to see a kid snatched and would do what ever it took to get him, or her, back. Huey and Dewey were no different.

February 14 8:00 a.m. Central Standard Time

Linda Ellis showed up at the Elgin Post Office bright and early Monday morning to collect her last paycheck. She could not believe Postal rules. What a stupid organization. They were in the mail business for God's sake! And they couldn't be bothered to mail the goddamn check! She chuckled to herself: snail mail, it'd be faster to get it delivered by carrier pigeon. Postal people hated the term 'snail mail'. Snail mail, snail mail . . . she whistled a little tune as she entered the building.

Now she had to stand in line. Hell with them, she thought. She wouldn't need this poor excuse for a job any more! She had just gotten word that the money was deposited in the secret account: 100,000 big ones for helping snatch a kid and taking her to her grandpa. Slick! They'd be sitting pretty for a long time with that much dough. She just couldn't decide if she should tell that idiot supervisor of hers, Chuck Christopher, to shove it.

When Postmaster Robert Wayne saw her in the lobby he immediately made two phone calls. First he called the Postal Inspection Service and then he called Detective Raymond Vecchio.

As he waited for representatives from either law enforcement agency to arrive, Wayne took Ellis into his office and stalled for time by filling out the mounds of paperwork necessary when a Postal employee leaves the service. Approximately fifteen minutes after placing the calls two Postal Inspectors arrived and joined Wayne waiting with the suspect in his office.

Ray and Fraser arrived a few minutes later to find their suspect already cuffed and ready to be transported. After reading Ellis her rights, Ray, Fraser and the Inspectors took Ms. Ellis to a waiting squad car.

"I can't believe you guys are Feds. All the other Feds we've run up against have been real dimwits. Specially the FBI . . . but the ATF and the Secret Service pretty much sucked too." Ray and Fraser shook hands with Inspectors Franklin and Benjamin. "It's been a pleasure doin' business with ya."

"Any time, gentlemen, any time."

Ray watched the Inspectors walk away. "Man, where can I get me a badge like that?"

Fraser was confused. "Ray, you have a perfectly good badge, one that represents the long and prestigious history of the Chicago Police Department."

"I want one of them Inspector's badges, did you see the size of those things?"

Fraser just shook his head. "Ray, Ray, Ray . . . "

__________

At about the same time that Ray turned their suspect over to the uniformed officers, Detectives Huey and Dewey were also getting lucky. After 14 hours of staking out Pier 29 and the freighter Lucky Lucy, Dewey spotted a guy who looked remarkably like the picture from Ellis' apartment, George Ramirez.

Both officers jumped out of the car. "Ramirez! Halt! Chicago PD! Oh, man, why do they always run?" Huey was after Ramirez as Dewey fired his gun in the air. Ramirez stopped so quickly Huey almost ran him down.

"On the ground. You're under arrest for the abduction of Maria Calvo . . . " Huey continued the litany as he cuffed the suspect.

Several angry longshoremen gathered around as Huey tried to escort Ramirez to the car. "What's he done, cop? Whyya bein' so rough? That's like harassment or somethin'!"

"Mr. Ramirez is accused of kidnappin' a seven year old girl. Ya wanna try ta stop us from arrestin' him?"

"Hey, man, we don't wanna have nothin' ta do with no kidnapper. He's all yers!"

February 14 10:30 a.m. Central Standard Time

All five officers stood behind the one way mirror and watched George Ramirez sweat. "Okay, look, I got an idea." Ray looked Turnbull up and down. "Take off that flannel shirt."

"Ray, I hardly think--"

"Look, just do like I'm tellin' ya. It's a dead giveaway. You and me are gonna question Ramirez. Fraser will talk ta Ellis." Before Fraser could object Ray continued. "I saw the way she was lookin' at you. Just ask her the questions and then smile. She'll tell ya everything ya want ta know." And some things ya don't wanna know, Ray thought. He then looked back at the other Mountie. "Good, that's better."

"Ray, I fail to understand why it was necessary for me to remove my shirt."

"Put the jacket back on and I'll tell ya." Ray looked at the total effect and was pleased with the result. Turnbull wore brown boots, blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. "Mess up yer hair." Ray frowned at Turnbull's hesitation. "Just do it! Good, we don't have much time, so we're gonna do the good cop, bad cop thing. 'Cept I'm gonna be the good cop and you're gonna keep your mouth shut. As long as you keep shut up, and keep frownin' like that, just lookin' at you'll scare the hell outta him. When we get in there, just stand behind him, where he can see yer reflection in the mirror, lean against the wall, with one foot braced on the wall like this, and hook yer thumbs in yer belt loops. Yeah, that's great. Remember, keep yer mouth shut. You say one polite, Canadian word, and we're dead."

Fraser left them as he went to question Ellis, and Ray and Turnbull went in to question Ramirez. 

Turnbull did exactly as Ray instructed, and the result was just as Ray had anticipated, very intimidating - to anyone who didn't know who the 'real' Turnbull.

"Ramirez, I'm Detective Vecchio." Ramirez didn't turn toward the other guy in the room but watched him in the mirror. When Turnbull remained silent, Ramirez eyed him warily. 

"Who's that?" Ramirez nodded toward the huge image looming over him in the mirror.

"Let's just say he's a friend of the kid you snatched and ya don't wanna mess with him."

Ramirez continued to eye Turnbull's reflection as Ray began his questioning. "How long ya been workin' for Pampas Shippin'?"

"Seven years."

"I've been thinkin' bout changin' careers. Good money in whatcha do?"

Turnbull was having a great deal of trouble controlling his patience. When was Ray going to get to the point? Why didn't he just ask where Maria was and then kick the guy in the head? Ray seemed so fond of talking about kicking people in the head and now, when he had the perfect opportunity, he was being almost nice to this - person.

"I suppose." Ramirez was becoming concerned by the look on the face of the big guy leaning against the wall.

"Ya friends with Calvo?"

Ramirez laughed. "Me? Friends with him? Sure, we have tea tagether every afternoon! Hell, I ain't never laid eyes on the guy."

"Why'd ya snatch his granddaughter then?"

"I wanna talk ta my lawyer."

"Where's Maria now?"

"I wanna talk ta my lawyer."

"What's the name a the man who grabbed the girl? It'll go easier for ya if ya just tell us where we can find em."

"I wanna talk ta my lawyer."

"Yer girlfriend in on this too? She rented the car, ya gonna tell us if she was with ya?"

"I wanna talk ta my lawyer."

Okay, enough was enough, Turnbull lost it. He slammed his palm down on the table hard enough that Ray was sure the table would crack in two. Ramirez jumped at least six inches out of his chair. When Turnbull drew his hand back, a picture of the sweet face of Maria Calvo smiled up at Ramirez from the table. Turnbull then turned a chair around and straddled it as he sat and came almost nose to nose with Ramirez. He was able to follow Ray's other instruction though, he still kept his mouth shut.

"Ramirez, buddy, I really don't think ya want to get the big guy any more mad. I can't control him when he's real mad." Ray cringed inwardly. He wasn't too sure he wanted to see the big guy 'real mad'. "The kid's his pal. Just tell us whatcha know about little Maria."

When Ramirez did not respond Ray shrugged his shoulders and looked at Turnbull. "Hey, buddy, I gotta hit the can. Try ta control yerself while I'm gone. Ya think ya can do that?"

"Yer not gunna leave me alone with him? I got rights, ya know!"

"Sorry, pal, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. If ya want ta tell us where Maria is, I can get a nice, safe stenographer in here ta protect ya." When Ramirez did not reply, Ray just shook his head as he made for the door. "Okay, it's yer funeral . . . "

__________

While Ray was questioning, and Turnbull intimidating the suspect in Interview I, Fraser was smiling at Linda Ellis. They got the same results: the name of the place where Ramirez and Ellis had taken Hernandez and Maria.

__________

"Okay, okay! Just don't leave me alone with him!" Ramirez pointed at Turnbull, who had moved to the opposite corner of the room, where Ramirez could get a full-length view of the real thing.

"Tell me where Maria is."

"We left her with the old man's bodyguard, Hernandez."

"Where?"

Ramirez didn't answer Ray immediately. He changed his mind however, as Turnbull took one step toward him. He couldn't get the words out fast enough. "We left em in Manitowoc! They were gonna meet the old man. I don't know where." Ramirez cringed as Turnbull took yet another step toward him. "I ain't lyin'! I don't know where they was gonna meet!"

"Wisconsin? Ya took them all the way ta Wisconsin?"

Turnbull left the room to find a map of Wisconsin, and almost ran headlong into Fraser, who was in search of the same thing. "Sorry, Sir. I'm looking for a map--"

"Of Wisconsin. Apparently the intimidation worked."

"As did the smiling?"

Both men shrugged their shoulders slightly as they hurried on in search of the map, or Francesca, whichever they found first.

Francesca did not have a map of Wisconsin, but she did have a computer, and you can find anything with a computer, or so she said. When she pulled up the web page of a map of Wisconsin, Turnbull knew almost immediately where they would find Maria, if they were in time.

He ran back to the interview room. He didn't wait for Ray to speak, as it was now his turn.

He asked his questions very slowly, in a very soft, very emotionless voice. "You know exactly where they were going, and how they were going to get out of the country." As he spoke he slowly came closer to Ramirez. "I want you to tell me which lighthouse, and when. If you don't, I promise you I will twist your neck until it snaps right off your shoulders." By the time he finished his sentence, Ramirez could feel Turnbull's breath on his face.

Ramirez' eyes never left Turnbull's. "You can't threaten me, I know my rights. Cops can't threaten me, it's . . . it's . . . against . . . the Constitution . . . or . . . or sumthin'."

Turnbull came even closer and whispered the words. "I'm not a cop, I'm a Mountie, and what ever you've heard about Mounties, it's true. We always get our man, or child, in this case . . . and we will do whatever it takes to accomplish our goal. Whatever . . . it . . . takes." Turnbull spread his very large hands on the table, to emphasize his point. It worked. Ray thought Ramirez would pee his pants.

"Man, they'll kill me! Hernandez said he'd kill both of us." Ramirez gulped his decision. Wait to be killed, or be killed now, there really wasn't much of a choice. "Hernandez 'n the old man were meetin' in Sturgeon Bay. They were gonna wait at the old light in Bailey's Harbor. Old man knows the people that live there. One a the freighters was gonna send a tender after them, but the weather got bad. They were still waitin' there this mornin'.

Once again Ray and Fraser were amazed by Turnbull's hidden talents.

February 14 12:30 p.m. Central Standard Time

Welsh was brought up to date and contacted the Wisconsin State Patrol. Turnbull made him promise that they would be instructed to just watch the lighthouse, and not make any attempt to rescue Maria. Welsh also made arrangements for a private plane to fly the officers as far as Manitowoc. They would have to drive the remaining sixty miles to the Bailey's Harbor Lighthouse. As they ran to Ray's car, Turnbull silently thanked God for bad weather.

As they made their way toward the airport Fraser had to ask. "Constable, how did you know?"

"Know, sir?"

"About the lighthouse? That could not possibly have been a guess."

Turnbull smiled slightly and hung on as Ray slid the GTO through a hard right turn. "Oh, no sir, it was not a guess. Maria told me a long time ago that the next time she saw her grandfather he had promised to take her to see a lighthouse. I just made the connection."

Fraser smiled at the man in the back seat. To Turnbull's way of thinking that must have been entirely logical. To Turnbull's way of thinking anyway. And he had to admit to himself that Turnbull's way of thinking was exactly right.

The twin engine Cessna was waiting for them when they arrived. By their calculations it would take them about three hours to get to Bailey's Harbor. They all prayed the weather stayed bad in Bailey's Harbor and didn't turn against them as they struggled to get there.

February 14 4:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Trooper Vickers, WSP, was there to meet their plane. The snow started to fall just as they drove away from the small municipal airport in Manitowoc. The closer they got to Bailey's Harbor the harder the snow fell, and the harsh wind blowing off the Lake put them right in the middle of a blizzard.

Blowing snow bit at their skin as they met WSP Captain Jackson at the intersection of Highway 57 and the lighthouse service road. The howling wind forced all the officers to take cover in Jackson's Explorer. Ray introduced himself and the Mounties, as Jackson eyed the two Canadians curiously.

"If you don't mind my asking, what have Mounties got to do with this? I thought it was just a case of a kid being snatched by a non-custodial parent."

"The child who was abducted is a special friend of mine, and she was taken practically from under my nose. It's very personal." 

Captain Jackson nodded his head in agreement. "I understand. Kidnapping, for whatever reason's got to be personal for all good cops. Welcome to Wisconsin, gentlemen." He pulled out a rough sketch of the property. "Local trooper drew this from memory. Got people in the rear house. Townsends live there, but they're gone for the winter. House should be empty. She's your friend, Constable, got any ideas how we should play this?"

"I'd like to go in through the front--"

"Turnbull, ya can't just walk up to the front door and ring the bell--" Ray almost laughed at the suggestion.

"Why not, Ray? The child is with her grandfather. You think he is going to risk hurting her in some kind of gun battle, or use her as a human shield?"

"Well--"

"No, I don't think he would do that. I believe once he is aware he has been discovered, he will surrender."

Fraser cocked his head slightly at his fellow officer as he considered his logic. "I think Turnbull may be correct. It's certainly worth a try . . . "

Captain Jackson wasn't so sure, but he was currently outnumbered. "We can get within about 100 yards of the house by four wheel drive, but from there the road is blocked with a fallen tree. The snow is too deep to go around it. I'm afraid we will have to cover the remainder of the distance on foot." He looked at the Mountie in his back seat. He did not look particularly well dressed for this weather. But, hey, he was from Canada, it probably snowed like this all year where he was from.

"We'll go with--"

Turnbull turned to Fraser. "If it's all the same to you, Sir, I'd like to go in alone. The presence of too many officers will frighten Maria and may spook Calvo."

Fraser understood, without Turnbull having to say so, that he also had to prove to himself that he could rescue Maria on his own. Fraser realized just how important success or failure was to Turnbull, and not just for the sake of little Maria.

"This is your operation, Constable, you call the shots." Ray gaped at Fraser, he could not believe Fraser was turning everything over to Turnbull. He understood Fraser's reasoning, however, when he saw the gratified look on Turnbull's face.

"Okay, buddy, what ya want us ta do?"

They all looked at the sketch of the property. "Captain, if you could come up from the Lake side of the property near the old light, and cover the rear door, and Ray if you could wait in this copse of trees? Constable Fraser will come with me as far as the porch and cover the front windows. Give me ten minutes after I get in the house . . . unless, of course, something happens before that."

Fifteen minutes later the men were all in place, and Turnbull knocked on the front door. "Senor Calvo, this is Constable Turnbull, RCMP. We have this house surrounded, Sir. I would like to come in and speak with you." Turnbull waited exactly one minute before continuing. "Sir, I am sure you do not want Maria to be hurt. Please allow me to come in, before anyone gets hurt." 

Another sixty seconds was almost up when the door opened, just far enough to allow Turnbull to enter.

February 14 5:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Eight minutes after the door had closed behind Turnbull it reopened. First to exit the house was Louis Hernandez, bodyguard to the second man who exited, José Enrique Calvo, Maria's abuelio. Close on their heels was Constable Renfield Turnbull, carrying a bundle wrapped in blankets and an overly large black leather jacket. The bundle could have only been Maria Calvo, safe and sound in the arms of Mister Mountie.

All of them trudged through the thigh deep snow back to the waiting vehicles. Captain Jackson shook his head as he loaded the suspects into his Explorer. He had never seen anything like it. Two 'suspected' perpetrators of a potentially international kidnapping, apprehended without any gunplay, or even force. Hell, there weren't even any raised voices! No wonder Canada was such a crime free country.

Ray, Fraser, Turnbull and Maria piled into the other Explorer with Officer Vickers and began the first leg of their long journey back to Chicago. Tomorrow would be soon enough for them to begin what threatened to be a mountain of paperwork.

February 14 9:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Maria was sound asleep when they reached the Calvo residence. She didn't stay asleep more than two seconds after Turnbull carried her into the apartment, however. There were hugs all around, for Maria, and for the men who had rescued her.

Fraser and Ray made sure that Turnbull got most of the credit, much to the chagrin of the younger Mountie. He didn't want the praise, or the Valentine's cookies and candy that were shoved at him. The fact that Maria was safe and he had been instrumental in her return was all the reward he needed - that, and the smile from his little friend when he handed her into her mother's arms.

Mrs. Calvo insisted that all three officers stay at least until she could call all the neighbors and introduce them to the heroes. After many handshakes, hugs, and pats on the back, the cops made their escape. All three of them would have rather faced bullets than the praise of ten overly excited mothers.

Just before they escaped from the apartment, Maria had one last thing to say to Mister Mountie. 

"Is Miss Kerri waiting for you? Did you make her a Valentine?"

Turnbull's heart sank to the floor. He had been so preoccupied with the case he hadn't had time.

"No, honey, I'm afraid I forgot . . . "

"Then give her this." Maria handed him a small candy heart, with an inscription that made him smile.

"This is perfect, Maria. Miss Kerri will love it." He kissed her gently on the cheek. "Thank you kindly."

February 14 9:30 p.m. Central Standard Time

Just a brief stop at the 27th Precinct and this case would be over - well at least for this day anyway. 

Ray, Fraser and Turnbull were all exhausted, but it was the best exhaustion any of them had ever felt.

As they walked through the swinging door of the 27th, preparing to call it a day, Ray could no longer control his curiosity. "Okay, Mister Hero Mountie, what the heck did you say ta Calvo ta get him ta surrender?"

"Very little actually."

"What exactly is 'very little'?"

"Nothing, really, I think my presence just . . . intimidated him." Turnbull winked at Fraser as they left the squad room.

"Whoa, hold on just a friggin' minute . . . "

February 14 10:00 p.m. Central Standard Time

Ray dropped Turnbull off in front of the bookshop, still completely befuddled. What the hell had the big guy said to Calvo? And why wouldn't he spill it? After all Ray was his buddy and buddies shared things with each other. Not to mention the fact that it would all have to go in the report tomorrow any how.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow, Ray. I am very tired. We'll discuss it tomorrow." Turnbull exited the car and disappeared inside the bookshop before Ray could object.

"Okay, fine, don't tell me. I can wait - we all can wait! Damn Canadian!" Ray hit the gas and turned the car toward the Consulate, to rid himself of the other damn Canadian, who sat smirking in the passenger seat.

__________

"Christy Santos called. Oh, Renny I'm so glad!" Kerri laughed as Renny gathered her into a giant bear hug. "Is she okay? They didn't hurt her?"

"She's fine. Really glad to see her mother - and even Rafael." He yawned deeply, as he sat down on the sofa. Kerri turned to hang up his jacket and when she turned back around, he was sound asleep.

She smiled at her sleeping Renny, her hero, with that silly pup asleep on his legs. God, that must be uncomfortable! She smiled again as she pushed the sleeping puppy aside and covered Renny with an afghan. She whispered to herself as she watched him sleep. "Well, so much for Valentine's Day." She kissed him gently on the forehead. "But that's okay, you just sleep." She went to finish her laundry.

February 14 10:45 p.m. Central Standard Time

A severe cramp in his leg awoke Renfield with a start. This sofa was definitely not conducive to comfortable sleeping, at least not for a man of his height. The apartment was dark, with the exception of a small amount of illumination from the light over the stove. He heard Kerri moving around in their bedroom and went to investigate.

She was attempting to put away laundry in the dark, doing her best to keep the apartment quiet so he could sleep. He smiled as he moved up behind her, and silently slipped his large hands under her sweatshirt and around her waist.

February 14 11:45 p.m. Central Standard Time

"Renny, what's wrong?"

"We missed it. Valentine's Day is almost over, and we missed it."

"Oh, I think we celebrated in our own special way," Kerri sighed as she rubbed her hands slowly over his chest.

"But I wanted to prepare you a special dinner and spend a romantic evening with you, with candles and . . . and everything. It's our first Valentine's Day . . . " Renny stuck out his lower lip, reminding Kerri of a small boy, somewhere near the age of the boys that came to the Saturday children's hour in the bookshop. 

"Renny, I don't need for you to do anything special to know you love me. Just having Maria back safe and sound is enough for me."

"Oh, that reminds me, Maria sent this to you." He pulled out the candy heart that Maria had sent her.

It brought tears to her eyes. "This is all I need for Valentine's Day. I have a gift from a child, and I have you. That's everything I could ever want."

"Hmm. Does that mean you don't want this?" He opened the top drawer of his nightstand and took out a small red velvet box.

From where she was lying next to him, Kerri scooted up into a sitting position as she took it from him, but her eyes never left his. "What did you do?"

She opened the box and gaped at the ring it contained.

"It was my grandmother's. It's a family heirloom, but my Dad said he couldn't think of anyone who would do it justice more than you." He was having a great deal of trouble reading the look on her face. 

"Kerri, like the candy heart says . . . will you . . . 'Be Mine'? Will . . . you . . . marry me?"

Kerri looked deeply into his eyes for a very long time. "Renny . . . you don't have to do this, you know? I know how . . . scared . . . " He started to object, but she continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I know that . . . marriage . . . that having a wife scares you and I understand why. I don't need a marriage certificate to prove to me how much you love me. I'm already totally committed to you, and--"

"Kerri, I love you and I want you to be my wife. I was afraid of love and you changed that. I was afraid of commitment and you've changed that too. You've meant a lot in my life and I want that to continue. So I'll ask you again. Will you marry me?"

Kerri stared at the lovely antique marcasite and diamond engagement ring. She had long ago accepted the fact that she and Renny would never be married. He had been so deeply hurt by the death of his first wife that Kerri knew he could simply not bring himself to ever marry again. She also knew it no longer mattered to her that she be Mrs. Turnbull. She was certain that he loved her and could honestly admit to herself that that was all that mattered, until this minute. She had never considered that he might ask her or what her answer would be. She stared at the lovely ring she held in her hand for a few more moments.

"Kerri?"

She looked up into Renny's hopeful blue eyes. A slow smile crept across her face as she handed the ring to the man she loved so much. "Yes, Renny, I will marry you."

Renny grinned his best 'Goofy Mountie' grin as he slipped the ring on to her finger.

The End


End file.
